


baby, why do you have a gun?

by coupe_de_foudre



Series: Flufftober 2020 [8]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Babe almost has a heart attack, Car has a shotgun, Established Relationship, Flufftober, M/M, Protectiveness, So Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: “What's the commotion about?” It's then that he notices the shotgun in Carwood's hands, eyes darting up to meet his with a flurry of questions running through them. “Baby, why do you have a gun?”
Relationships: (pre-relationship), Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe, Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Series: Flufftober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952335
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	baby, why do you have a gun?

**Author's Note:**

> a couple of you asked for the story behind Lip and a shotgun from my other fic so...here it is xD

"Hey, Ma, can I stay here for a few days?" Gene asked, shifting his overnight bag on his shoulder, "I’m having trouble with an ex and I- ...well, just to be safe."

Carwood sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he nodded. There was no way in hell he'd turn one of his boys away, especially not Gene; the Cajun boy rarely asked for help so if he was it usually meant it was something serious. Obviously Carwood lets him stay, not needing to show him to one of two spare rooms and promising to get a coffee made. Gene smiles at him, grateful as ever, and hurries off to unpack.

By the time Ron comes home, they're both sat at the kitchen table nursing warm mugs of coffee. His face is a picture and a half – first surprise, followed by that sweet smile that always takes over at the sight of their boys, and then it shifts completely. Brows furrowing, a wrinkle of concern etched into his forehead and the corners of his mouth dropping down. He's worried. And on edge. Carwood can read every facial expression with ease now, after so many years teaching himself the intricate language of Ronald Speirs.

“What happened?” He doesn't waste any time, hands braced tightly on the back of the third chair rather than sitting down. Carwood sighs and blankets them with his own, stroking a thumb over his husband’s knuckles and watching with quiet satisfaction as he loosens his grip.

They get a rough idea of what’s happened; Gene broke up with his boyfriend and apparently the guy didn’t take it so well. He refused to move his stuff out until Gene eventually just dumped it in the street and then he kept turning up outside his apartment block trying to get buzzed in. 

Carwood's seething by the end of Gene's explanation, angry at himself for not being their to protect him and downright furious at the bastard responsible. 

“Hey, Ma, it's okay.” Gene reassures him, reaching across the table to link their fingers together. He squeezes tight. “I'm safe.” 

Ron places a warm hand between his shoulder blades, a silent gesture of both comfort and backing him up in his feelings. Carwood smiles, the action not as forced as he expected it to be considering his current rollercoaster of emotions, and squeezes Gene's hand back. “I'm glad.”

Carwood's jolted from his light doze on the couch, someone banging on the door, shouting “Gene, open up!” in a demanding tone. Carwood doesn't recognise the voice and bolts upright, not thinking twice before running to the cupboard under the stairs and grabbing his trusty shotgun.

He hoists it into position, ripping open the front door and pointing it straight into the stranger’s face.

Said stranger freezes, eyes widening in fear before he holds his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps backwards. “Whoa, hey, hold up!” Comes the stammered response, in a thick Philly accent. “I don't want no trouble. I'm looking for Eugene? Eugene Roe?”

Carwood squints his eyes at the pale redhead, nudging him back with the end of the barrel. “Who're you?”

“Babe-” He hesitates, eyeing the gun warily, “Edward Heffron.”

There's a pounding of feet on the stairs and Gene comes running behind him. “Babe?” He yanks Carwood away, panic written over his face. “Wait, no, don't shoot!”

Carwood sags, dropping the gun from the guy’s face but keeping a tight grip. “I wasn't going to shoot.”

In perfect timing, Ron emerges from the kitchen, dusting floured hands on a towel thrown over his shoulder. “What's the commotion about?” It's then that he notices the shotgun in Carwood's hands, eyes darting up to meet his with a flurry of questions running through them. “Baby, why do you have a gun?”

“Yeah, sorry, but what the fuck?” Babe pipes up, finally stepping forward now that the gun is no longer pointing at him.

Carwood apologised, handing the gun over to Ron who carefully propped it by the doorway. He glanced at Gene, then Babe, before back to Gene. “This isn't the guy?”

“The guy? What guy?” 

Gene shook his head. He turns to Babe and sighs, “Evan.” At the name, a look or realisation passes over Babe's face.

Ron leans closer, hand coming to rest on the small of Carwood's back and he eases into the touch, a tiny smile quirking the corners of his mouth upwards as he leant his head on his husband’s chest. “Okay, seriously, what's going on?” Ron stresses.

"I was worried about Gene, he wasn’t at his place and he wasn’t answering his phone." Babe shrugged, "I remembered him mentioning this address..."

"So you just decided to bang the door down?" Gene balked. Babe mouthed an apology to him, looking every inch like an innocent puppy. Carwood suddenly felt awful for almost giving the kid a heart attack.

"Are you two dating?" Ron asked suddenly, his inner protective father streak coming out. Carwood stifled a laugh as they both stared wide-eyed at him, talking over each other.

"Umm..."

"No!"

"No?"

"I mean- I don’t think..."

Ron rolled his eyes, leaving Gene to his inner turmoil as he guided Babe into the house so they could shut the door. The neighbours didn’t need more gossip to spread about them. "This sounds like a talk to be had over dinner. Why don’t you all get washed up? I’ll have the pie done in ten."

Babe and Gene both shot him a grateful look and Carwood smiled as he finally felt the previous tension disappear. The two younger ones headed off to do as Ron had said, and that’s when Ron turned to look at him.

"A shotgun, Car?" he asked, taking a step closer. Carwood inhaled greedily at the scent of freshly baked goods that clung to his husband’s clothes, ignoring the flutter in his stomach at the familiar nickname.

"I wasn’t going to shoot!"

"Well, I should hope not." Ron chuckled, deep voice running through Carwood's veins and lighting them on fire - even after all these years.

He sighed heavily, dropping his forehead onto Ron’s chest. A hand fell to the space between his shoulder blades, thumbs rubbing firm circles into the nape of his neck and drawing a soft moan from his throat. "I was just trying to protect Gene."

"I know." Ron spoke, "I would've done the same."

At that, Carwood frowned up at his husband. "If you would’ve done the same, why are you lecturing me?"

"First, I’m not lecturing you." Ron corrected, pressing his lips to the top of his head. "Second, I didn’t want you shooting a kid on our porch because then I’d have to visit you through bars."

Carwood smirked, nosing at Ron's jaw. "Would that be so bad?"

"It would be an inconvenience." Ron deadpanned, running fingers through Carwood’s hair. "I just made pie."

That brought a laugh from him, a loud, belly laugh that had him throwing his head back. When he settled once again, he found Ron staring at him with an overwhelmingly fond expression, eyes soft around the edges and a beautiful smile dancing over his lips. "I love you." he said, stroking a thumb over the curve of his cheekbone before leaning in for a kiss that was happily returned.

“Love you too,” Carwood mumbled against Ron's lips, “you overprotective dork.”

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading <3


End file.
